Wesley White
Peter’s second sermon in Acts 3 is often overshadowed by the well-rehearsed first sermon in Acts 2. John Howard Yoder particularly bemoans this for the loss of Christological emphasis that ensues in diverse discussions concerning the prophetic stance of the church.[1] It is all the more surprising given Peter’s dependence on the Deuteronomic quote (Deut. 18:15) for the conclusive impact of his address (Acts 3:22), including the unabashed Mosaic comparison (hōs eme) that casts Jesus among the highest order of what Israelite tradition projects into the role of prophet. In fact, the post-resurrection Jesus[2] claims even greater allegiance as the one upon whom “the restoration of all things” revolves and upon whom soul-survival rests. Yoder contends that all succeeding ecclesial expressions of prophetic practice should similarly be Christologically determined.
In so doing, Yoder happily aligns himself with the “radicals” of the Reformed Reformation who distanced themselves from Luther when he essentially abandoned a vision governed by the “Rule of Christ,” opening the way for the later developments of Bultmann, in one respect, and Kierkegaard in another, in which there is little need for a critique of or word to the world and in which radical discontinuity goes so far as to suspend the ethical.[3] To the contrary, prophetic responsibility requires an empowering of what might be understood as a missionary ethic of incarnation. It is, in fact, an ethical posture grounded in an appreciation of Creation that is not independent of Redemption.[4]
Only evangelical Christology (properly understood) of this kind can aspire to a transformationist approach to culture that is both humble and hopeful with reference to the biblical recognition that everything is not yet subject to Jesus. (Heb. 2:8-9) Because of it, tactical alliances can be encouraged in the interest of what Yoder refers to as “interworld transformational grammar.”[5] Becoming allies, for example, with pluralist/relativist deconstruction of coercive certainty, toward which orthodoxy is deceptively prone, need not turn relativism into a new monism. Likewise, tactical sharing of the grammar of liberation, by way of another example, need not result in advocacy for violent revolution. Humility gladly acknowledges the benefit of mutual sharing, while at the same time hope insists on the elevation of Christ as both a symbolic and lived word to the world.
On the other hand, incarnational prophetic responsibility must challenge epistemological stances that either conflate political authority and social consensus with particular belief systems, or are determined pragmatically on the basis of whether or not they escape social reproach. Neither of these can be countenanced when high Christology properly assumes that Messiah is placed above rather than within cosmology and culture in such a way that the lordship of Jesus is affirmed as the surest way to coherence and meaning. The particularity of incarnation, however, requires the low road that is not so concerned with making Jesus contextually relevant as it is with practices that render it compelling for others to join in following him.
Incarnation, therefore, strongly invokes an approach to spirituality that accentuates prophetic demonstrations and verbalizations that are localizable and (concurrently) serves to differentiate Jesus from the multitude of religious hero figures. Liberation from violence, identification with the poor, the constructing of forgiving community, reference to common stories that have shaped a worldwide communion are all indicative of what Yoder calls the “relative” fruitfulness of Jesus as iconoclastic prophet purposefully located amidst various clashes of culture and despite the ongoing betrayals of his own disciples. “His message interpenetrates with the realms of politics and culture” as most forms of devotion do not.[6]
When incarnation moves out of the simple historic arena and into a properly construed communal context it requires that serious attention be given to a hermeneutic of peoplehood. It is within this setting, particularly, that the “one who prophesies” (1 Cor. 14:3, 29) serves as an agent of direction for both the community’s singular moral/ethical stance and as a motivator for the world at large. Ecclesia that conforms to this rendering of peoplehood happily embraces its own identity in terms of theo-political categories, preferring in fact to situate itself in the very midst of worldly concerns with communally prophetic intentions.[7] Furthermore, when ecclesial life is so conceived, Pauline and Johannine contrasts (Romans 13 and Revelation 13) turn out to be less about differing states and more a reflection of the enduring ambiguous reality of any state. It compels the church to be a community of prophetic dissent, not apolitical but hyperpolitical, offering more original, creative and intensive ways of realizing a healthy polis.[8]
The eschatological orientation of missional community of this sort, therefore, is both affirmed and intentional. It reasserts an ardent Christology by articulating what James McClendon (assessing Yoder’s contribution) refers to as a “politics of resurrection.”[9] It interprets the work of God in such a way that juxtaposes hope in the cumulative results of human achievement with hope in Yahweh who raises the dead. In this manner, Yoder situates the prophetic purpose of missional community within an eschatological framework that is deliberately anticipatory in nature. If communities of this kind have recourse only to their primitive origins, their social engagement cannot help but be severely limited and temporal. Far more resourceful are those that envision themselves as collectively progressing toward the future of Jesus Christ. “The people of God,” according to Yoder, “is called to be today what the world is called to be ultimately.”[10]
[1] John Howard Yoder, The Royal Priesthood: Essays Ecclesiological and Ecumenical, ed. Michael Cartwright (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing, 1994), 147.
[2] Zehnle notes Peter’s dependence on the LXX and its interesting use of ανιστημι (3:22) in what is minimally an allusive, if not a forthright suggestion as to a new Christological paradigm for the role of prophet in light of the resurrection. For comparison, cr. ref. 2:14 and 3:7. See, Richard F. Zehnle, Peter’s Pentecost Discourse: Tradition and Lukan Reinterpretation in Peter’s Speeches of Acts 2 and 3 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1971), 72.
[3] Yoder’s critique of Luther is in the context of “binding and loosing” as prescribed by Jesus (Mt.18:15,18), and reflects Luther’s frustration with establishing a truly evangelical community. See, Ulrich S. Leupold, ed., Luther’s Works, vol. 53: Liturgy and Hymns (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1965), 64. Bultmann’s overriding concern for authenticity leaves little room, if any, for material ethical content. See, John Howard Yoder, The Priestly Kingdom: Social Ethics as Gospel (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), 18-19. Ronald Green wrestles with various interpretive offerings of the sacrifice of Isaac story for which Kierkegaard made a name, at least in part, by rejecting any Christ typology in it. See, Ronald M. Green, “Abraham, Isaac, and the Jewish Tradition: An Ethical Reappraisal,” Journal of Religious Ethics 10/1 (Spring 1982), 1-21.
[4] Yoder, The Priestly Kingdom, 44
[5] The danger is rendering Jesus either optional or innocuous. Properly understood and approached, the collision of the message of Jesus with postmodern lauding of pluralism and relativism can radically shape the world in affirming ways. See, The Priestly Kingdom, 56. A critical element in transformational grammar of this sort is an honest appraisal of what is meant by the term “power.” It can be construed as neither neutral nor intrinsically evil. See, Nigel Goring Wright, Disavowing Constantine: Mission, Church, and the Social Order in the Theologies of John Howard Yoder and Jürgen Moltmann (Milton Keyes: Paternoster, 2000), 70. However, the church must be willing to be the community of prophetic dissent when power becomes hegemonic rather than serviceable. See Yoder’s views on this in, ‘Mennonite Political Conservatism: Paradox or Contradiction,’ in H. Loewen (ed.), Mennonite Images (Winnipeg: Hyparion Press, 1980), 8.
[6] See, The Priestly Kingdom, 57-58. The Mosaic paradigm comes to the fore as the Old Testament prophetic stance is carried on, only more radically, in Jesus. How the Hebraic prophet tradition can be instructive for political and cultural challenges today is admirably discussed by Richard Bauckham despite the fact that he generalizes far too much in his assessment of Anabaptist distinctives. See his, The Bible in Politics: How to Read the Bible Politically (London: SPCK, 1989), 6. Hermenutical resorting to paradigm and analogy is similarly advocated by Christopher Wright, Living as the People of God: The Relevance of Old Testament Ethics (Leicester: Inter-Varsity Press, 1983), 40-45, and by Andrè Dumas, Political Theology and the Life of the Church (London: SCM Press, 1978), 68-69.
[7] Bosch particularly emphasizes the missional potency generated when ecclesial objectives do not shy away from theo-political considerations. He suggests, for example, that missional community inherently assumes a prophetic stance. See, D. J. Bosch, Transforming Mission: An Introduction to a Theology of Mission (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1991), 377. Yoder, of course, intends to extend our understanding of prophecy so that “its primary focus is neither prediction nor moral guidance,” but rather the declaration of and reinforcement of “a vision of the place the believing community in history, which vision locates moral reasoning.” In all of this, it is dependent upon the work of the Spirit rather than social contract democracy. See, The Priestly Kingdom, 29.
[8] Serving the subject’s welfare is part of the radical possibility entertained in Romans 13. See, John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 210. It is in keeping with the examples of Joseph and Daniel who willingly serve the pagan king, yet avoid idolatry. For a good treatment of this see, “To Serve our God and to Rule the World,” in C. Villa-Vincencio, Between Christ and Ceasar: Classic and Contemporary Texts on Church and State (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1986), 92. At the same time, Villa-Vincencio turns to Barth for a rehearsal of that vision that acts as an eschatological symbol meant to challenge the state.
[9] James McClendon, Jr., Systematic Theology, vol.1, Ethics (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1986), 7. McClendon contends that ethical reflection is like a three stranded rope comprising ethics of the body, of culture and community and of the resurrection promoted by Christian community that is both primitive and eschatological.
[10] John Howard Yoder, Body Politics: Five Practices of the Christian Community before the Watching World (Scottsdale, PA: Herald Press, 1992), ix.
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